A few weeks later, the craving hit me harder than ever.
I’d spent every spare moment since that night replaying it—Daddy’s hands, his voice, the way he stretched and filled me until I couldn’t think. My little clitty would twitch just from the memory, leaking into whatever pretty panties I’d slipped on that day. I’d started wearing them constantly now: lace under my work slacks, silk thongs while grocery shopping, satin boyshorts to bed. A constant, delicious secret that kept me on edge, always half-hard, always ready.
Then the text came.
Daddy: Tonight. 8pm. My place. Wear something slutty under your coat. No excuses, princess.
My hands shook as I typed back one trembling word: Yes, Daddy.
I spent the next few hours preparing like it was a religious ritual.
Long bath, fresh shave from chest to toes, skin soft and glistening with rose-scented lotion. I painted my nails a glossy cherry red, did my makeup heavier than last time—smoky eyes, long lashes, glossy pink lips that screamed fuck me. I chose the outfit carefully: a black lace teddy that snapped at the crotch, sheer enough to show my smooth skin and the tiny cage I’d locked myself into that morning (a gift from him I hadn’t dared remove). Over it went thigh-high fishnet stockings, a short pleated black skirt that barely covered my ass, and a cropped white blouse tied just under my padded bra, leaving my midriff bare. Six-inch patent heels. A long black trench coat to hide it all on the drive over.
When I arrived at his apartment, my legs were already trembling. I knocked softly.
The door opened almost immediately.
He stood there in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up, looking like sin itself. His eyes darkened the second he saw me.
“Coat. Off. Now.”
I let the trench fall to the floor in a heap.
His gaze raked over me slowly, possessively. “Jesus fucking Christ. Look at you.”
He didn’t give me time to blush. One hand fisted in my hair, the other grabbed my ass and yanked me inside, kicking the door shut. His mouth crashed onto mine—rough, claiming, tasting of whiskey and hunger. I melted against him, whimpering into the kiss as his tongue fucked my mouth the way I already knew he’d fuck the rest of me soon.
He broke away just long enough to growl, “Bedroom. Crawl.”
My knees hit the floor instantly. I crawled ahead of him down the hallway, ass swaying, skirt riding up to expose the lace framing my caged clitty and the thin strip of fabric barely covering my hole. I could feel his eyes burning into me.
When we reached the bedroom, he hauled me up by the arms and threw me face-down across the bed. My skirt flipped up. I heard the unmistakable sound of his belt sliding free.
“You locked yourself up for me like a good girl,” he said, voice thick with approval. One big hand pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me down while the other tugged the teddy aside. “But you still need to be reminded who owns this pussy.”
The first crack of leather across my ass made me yelp. Heat bloomed instantly.
“Count,” he ordered.
“One… thank you, Daddy…”
Another sharp smack.
“Two… thank you, Daddy…”
He didn’t stop until I was sobbing, ass glowing red, thighs shaking, the cage painfully tight around my throbbing clitty. Only then did he toss the belt aside and drop to his knees behind me.
His tongue found my hole without warning—hot, wet, insistent. He ate me like he was trying to devour my soul, tongue fucking deep while his hands spread me wide. I pushed back shamelessly, moaning into the sheets, begging incoherently.
When he finally stood and unzipped, I felt the blunt head of his cock nudge my slick entrance.
“No teasing tonight,” he rasped. “I’m going to ruin this little cunt.”
He slammed in with one brutal thrust.
I screamed—pleasure and stretch and fullness overwhelming every nerve. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He fucked me hard and fast, hips snapping, balls slapping against me with every punishing stroke. The cage rattled uselessly; I couldn’t even get hard enough to leak properly, just a constant frustrated drip that only made me crazier.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he snarled, yanking my head back by my hair.
“You—Daddy—only you—your sissy—your hole—please—”
He reached under me, fingers finding the lock on the cage. A soft click. The metal fell away.
My clitty sprang free, painfully hard in seconds.
“Cum whenever you want, princess,” he growled, pounding deeper. “But you’re not stopping until I’ve bred you twice.”
The permission shattered me.
I came almost instantly, spurting across the sheets in thick ropes while he fucked me through it, not slowing down. My whole body shook, oversensitive, but he kept going—relentless—until I felt him swell and flood me with the first hot rush.
He didn’t pull out.
He just kept thrusting through his own orgasm, using his cum as lube, fucking his seed deeper until I was a whimpering, dripping mess.
Only when he finally came a second time—growling my name like a prayer—did he slow, collapsing over me, both of us slick with sweat and cum.
He kissed the back of my neck, soft now.
“My perfect little slut,” he murmured, still buried inside me. “You’re staying the night. And tomorrow morning… we’re going shopping. Daddy wants to see his girl in something even sluttier.”
I smiled into the pillow, spent and happy and already aching for more.
“Yes, Daddy.”
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